


Playing House

by OrphanText



Category: Magic Kaito
Genre: Established Relationship, Gift Fic, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, M/M, Major Original Character(s), Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-10-10 13:39:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10438893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrphanText/pseuds/OrphanText
Summary: 作个记录白快要放闪因其余有自创人物所以犹豫发表大可先读着这个Thank you, Hopie, for always playing with me.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hopie (hopiecat)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopiecat/gifts).



> 作个记录  
> 白快要放闪  
> 因其余有自创人物所以犹豫发表  
> 大可先读着这个
> 
> Thank you, Hopie, for always playing with me.

When his alarm rings, Kaito reaches over to switch it off, and spends the next ten minutes staring up at his bare ceiling and listening to himself breathe. It’s a slow morning, the silence in the room drowsy and languorous as the clock ticks on quietly, time moving on ahead without him. Kaito doesn’t mind. It isn’t often that he gets to sleep in, to laze around in bed in the sleep warm sheets until he’s ready. Most days, he is out of bed before the alarm rings, but today, he allows himself to indulge in it, and cuddles up to a pillow humming.

By the time he gets up, the light streaming in through the small gap in his curtains is a few degrees brighter, and Kaito stretches slowly, bare feet whispering across the floor as he makes his way into the bathroom, strips as he goes and doesn’t bother keeping the door closed (today, there’s no one in the house but him, Saguru having gone for his morning run and won’t be back for another twenty five minutes). Now that they’re inching into proper autumn, they’ve been getting cold snaps lately in the mornings and evenings. Soon, Kaito will have to dig out the winter clothes that he has stuffed away somewhere in their attic, but that’s a chore for another day. Now, he steps into the stream of cold water, hissing sharply as the shock of it steals the air from his lungs, and it takes a long while before he stops flinching away from it. As the water bleeds heat and warmth from him, Kaito takes his time shampooing his hair and soaping. Accompanied by nothing but his reflection in the mirror, he studies himself with a mild curiosity, watches as his teeth clenches against the cold, as his reflection bleeds paler, skin shading into translucence by the time he turns the water off, movements just that little bit stiffer. He doesn’t stop shivering—not through toweling himself dry, or brushing his teeth. The thin shirt he wears doesn’t do much to impart him any warmth, and he shuffles back out into the bedroom, ungainly. Saguru’s back, standing by the bed in his sweat soaked shirt and jogging pants, and Kaito makes his way over, presses up against him even though he had just showered and Saguru’s all sweaty and sticky.

“Kaito!” Saguru starts, nearly dropping the watch he’d been fiddling with. He sets it down anyway, draws Kaito into a semblance of a hug, warm hands cupping his cheeks. “Christ. You’re so cold.”

“I just had a shower.” Kaito’s tilts his face up, blinks until Saguru gets the hint and gives him a kiss. “Good morning.”

“We have a heater,” Saguru says, and he tugs Kaito to sit down on their bed, pulling one of their blankets over and wrapping him up in it. “You’ll fall sick if you take cold showers in this weather.”

“I won’t,” Kaito says resolutely, or as resolutely as his chattering teeth would allow him. “If I do, you will take care of me.”

“Will I?” Saguru lifts an eyebrow, looks skeptical even as he towels Kaito’s hair dry, even though they both know that out of the two of them, Saguru is the one that fusses the most. “You need to dry your hair, properly.”

“I will.”

“Christ,” Saguru says again, followed by something else entirely in French, Kaito not following because he’s resting a hand against his forehead and the heat feels nice. “I’ll get you something to drink. How does coffee sound?”

“Coffee sounds fantastic. But maybe a kiss, too?” Kaito taps at his lips, smiles innocently when Saguru narrows his eyes at him.

“You're pushing it a little,” Saguru says, to which Kaito grins, slipping off the bed and leaving the sheets pooling behind him. “Where are you going now?”

“I’m going to make breakfast.” The arm around his waist has Kaito laughing into the kiss that Saguru pulls him into, moaning when Saguru licks into his mouth, nibbling on his lip. “Saguru.”

“Maybe we can eat out,” Saguru murmurs, one hand slipping under Kaito’s shirt, resting low on his hip. “You’re not—where’s your underwear?”

“You got back before I can get fully dressed,” Kaito tells him, squawking when Saguru suddenly picks him up and tosses him back onto the bed. “Don’t you want breakfast?”

“We can eat out,” Saguru says, already moving to pull his shirt off over his head. “You’ve had this planned, didn’t you?”

“Well, I wouldn’t go so far,” Kaito says, watching with great interest as Saguru pulls off his pants next, his socks going with it. “But maybe I did.”

“You’re an idiot,” Saguru shakes his head, and lets Kaito pull him back down to bed.


	2. Breakfast's served at 2pm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, Hopie, for gracing me with your OC Kit. 
> 
> Tags updated accordingly.  
> Shamelessly churns out threesomes and a never ending plethora of morning fics

He wakes in a tangle of limbs, blinking sleepily up at the gentle haze of morning light in their bedroom. Sometime through the night, they’ve lost two of their pillows, and someone has kicked the blanket to the floor. The air in the room is chilly, and Kaito shivers as he carefully extricates himself from under the heavy arm thrown over his waist, mindful not to jostle either of his lovers too much as he picks his way carefully off the bed. He’s not quite awake yet, the clock still slowly ticking at three minutes past eight, but his bladder is full, and he can still taste the too sharp, too clean wisps of his dream in his head. He takes a moment for himself, watching the way they shift towards each other in their sleep. Here, safe and warm in bed, they look soft, tangled back around each other without anything to disturb their dreams. It’s home, and Kaito pets dreamily at Saguru’s exposed hip, marvelling the fact that he’s here in bed with them at all. 

The bathroom is dim when he shuffles in, and he does his business quickly. There’s a bottle of Kit’s preferred hand soap standing over the sink, a little porcelain figurine that doubles as a planter up against the shelf. Kaito rinses his hands, doesn’t bother to examine the barely formed thoughts drifting in and out as he blinks at his reflection in the mirror. There’s a barely there tanline where the hem of his shirt slips off his shoulder, Kaito smiling stupidly as he remembers the week they had spent on the beach, lazing around the resort until Saguru drives them out for sightseeing. It had been fun, playing tourists, buying each other silly trinkets that remind them of each other. There’s a pair of warm wooly socks and a golden brooch that can easily double for a hairpin that’s still hiding in his luggage, Kaito fully intending to hide a bug into the fat body of the - ha - bug before gifting it to Saguru. Halfway through that thought, he reaches a hand down, and abruptly realises he’s half hard.

He contemplates himself in the mirror, one hand cupping himself through the thin material of his boxers, the other braced against the sink. There’s pleasure, warm and slow and viscous in his veins, and when he rubs up against the slowly thickening length of him, he sighs, pleased, cheeks pinking in response to his own vanity. It’s a morning for a slow, lazy fuck, getting themselves dirty and sweaty and slick even before they’ve so much as got out of bed. A soft moan falls past his lips, and he forces himself to remove his hand before he can urge himself out of this languidness into urgency. He doesn’t resist the light pinch to his nipple, mostly for show although he does like it, then shuffles back into the bedroom, intent on more sleep.

Kit’s sitting up in bed when he returns, and he smiles when Kaito ambles in. He has a hand in Saguru’s hair, and Kaito leans over him to give Kit a closed mouthed kiss, humming at the stubble he feels on his cheek. Between them, Saguru doesn’t stir, and Kaito clambers back into bed with them, sighing as he slips back between the sheets. 

“Good morning.” Kit wraps an arm around his waist, warm hand slipping up under his shirt to rest on bare skin. Kaito makes a contented sound into the pillows, and covers Kit’s hand with his own, snuggling backwards against him. “Going back to sleep?”

“A lovely morning for sleeping in,” Kaito drowses, brushing fingers against the few strands of hair falling over Saguru’s forehead. He’s all cuddled up to their largest pillow, drooling a little in his sleep. Kaito smiles as he touches a fingertip to the freckles he spots over his cheeks, his bare shoulder, and as such, he’s not exactly tracking Kit’s hand on him - at least, not until he slips it down the front of Kaito’s boxers, Kaito gasping soundlessly, arching. “Or - the idea of it.”

There are lips on his neck, Kit leaving ticklish feather light kisses where his shirt slips, and Kaito laughs, the sound coming out of him more like a mewl when Kit pets him, heavy pressure and friction and he’s most definitely interested now.  _ I like this idea better _ , he reads in the slow drag of his lips, the brief nibble of teeth on his earlobe, and he tips his head back, turning until he can see him.

“You’ll wake him,” he whispers accusingly, breath of hot air in the narrow space between them, Kit smiling, smiling, quieting him with a kiss on his lips. “He needs his sleep.”

“You’ll have to be quiet for him, then,” Kit says, entirely matter-of-fact as he pulls Kaito back flush against him, nudging his legs apart and reaching lower, lower, fingers skating over the thin skin of his balls to press a fingertip against his perineum, Kaito jolting at the touch, gasping. “You’ll wake him.”

“And whose fault would that be?” Kaito shudders on an exhale, spreading his legs further. He’s eager for Kit’s touch, eager to please, and he pushes upwards when Kit returns to petting him. Beside him, Saguru sleeps peacefully, and Kaito feels nearly guilty, incredibly filthy. It does feel  _ good _ , however, pleasure melting to pool low down in his belly, and he presses a hand against his mouth, tries his best not to make a sound. He succeeds, but just barely.

Kit takes his time with him, tugging on the hem of his boxers, sliding them off of him and hitching his leg higher, Kaito burying his face in the sheets. No matter what he tries, does, Kit’s hand on him never falters, never quickens. If it weren’t for how uneven Kit is breathing, Kaito would have thought him unaffected from it all. He is as gentle as he is relentless, catching Kaito’s wrist before he can try to touch himself, guide him, holding him firmly against him when he tries to fuck upwards into his hand eagerly. It’s maddening, and when Kaito tries to stifle his moans with a handful of the sheets, Kit simply reaches over, slips two fingers into his mouth, lets him suck the salt from his skin. Kaito whines, flattens his tongue against sensitive fingertips, tries to get one back over him by squirming against the hardness he feels against his backside, freezing when Saguru stirs, slowly.

Pointedly, intentionally, Kit curls fingertips over the tip of his cock, rubs down firmly until Kaito gasps, squeak, Saguru blinking the daze from his eyes to realise what he’s looking at, and flushes, immediately.

“Oh,” he says, Kaito unable to speak with Kit’s fingers in his mouth, panting too loud over the slick sound of Kit’s hand on him. He wants, wants a cock filling him, wonders if he can ask for it, but settles for a quiet keening instead. He wonders what Kit looks like now, if he’s wearing the same expression he always does when they kiss, when Kaito touches him, gets down on his knees for him. Saguru’s eyes flick over his shoulder, and back to him, clearly indecisive of what to do, whom to look at, whether he should try to go back to sleep.

(Feels like he should be embarrassed, ashamed, about being watched this closely, clearly being put on display by Kit who enjoys presenting him, but loves the both of them too much to actually be. The feeling is there, lurking underneath the thrumming heat in him, but for them, for the way they look at him, all the time they’ve been there for him - 

He’d do anything.)

He’s startled by Kit’s teeth on his shoulder, a sudden, sharp pain that tips him over the edge, has him spilling hot and wet and messy over Kit’s hand, onto the sheets. He arches his back, gasps, shudders when Kit milks it out of him in firm, steady strokes of his fist. It’s a bright spark that dissipates into warmth throughout his body, and boneless, limbs feeling entirely too loose and wobbly, he slumps back against Kit’s chest, the now soiled sheets, gulps for air and lets the sensation flood through him. Kit’s murmuring something in his ear, something about breakfast, and as Saguru props himself up on an elbow, Kaito fumbles a hand clumsily back in between their bodies, pressing lightly against the thick, engorged cock he still feels behind him.

“I feel a little neglected,” Saguru says at the sharp intake of Kit’s breath, Kaito smiling despite feeling like sun-warmed jelly.

“I can think of something,” Kaito tells him, still breathless, and kisses him.


End file.
